The Problem With Pride
by EriksRedOperaRose
Summary: Raoul De Chagny is confused when Christine leaves him because of his immaturity and vanity. However, when he falls for a new woman and circumstances threaten to tear them apart, will he be able to overcome his immaturity to save their relatioship? Raoul o


As is custom after dinner, I find myself lounging in a large leather chair in front of the fire, a brandy in my hand. There is no sound but the steady and unchanging crackling of the fire, and the repetitive and perpetual ticking of the clock on the mantle. I swish what is left of the amber liquid around a few times in my glass before draining the rest of it and pouring yet another.

I can not help but think to myself what an exciting life I lead. The great Viscomte Raoul de Chagny, sits alone once more after a dull supper, in front of the fire with nothing but his thoughts to accompany him. Yes, what a thrilling existence I find myself in.

I sigh audibly, though there is no one in the room to hear my outward expression of inner turmoil, and take a gulp from my glass.

She should be here. With me, living like a queen in a house filled with light and warmth. Not in a disgusting cave living like a damn mole with _him_.

I find once more that this is what irks me most. She is with _him_, not me.

I stare into the orange and yellow flames, feeling pretty damn sorry for myself. And, for the millionth time these past weeks, I replay in my mind that final day, searching in vain for what I did wrong.

_She was sitting at the vanity, tears in her shining eyes as she faced me with a look of almost agony._

"Raoul, it is not right of you to speak of him in such a manner. He was my friend, my teacher. If it weren't for him, I would have had a lonely, hopeless childhood. At least respect him for my sake."

I smiled warmly and shook my head at her before falling on my knees to meet her pretty brown eyes head on. I gently took her hand and patted it lightly before responding.

"Now Lotte, we must not forget what he is, namely a murderer and a deceiver. I know it is hard for you to accept right now, love, as you are still confused, but give it time."

I kissed her forehead and continued to smile reassuringly. She looked at me with a befuddled expression on her face and then said, "I am not confused, Roaul, I just do not think it is right of you to refer to him as a monster. He is a man just like you."

I could not hide my cringe at these words. Silly, beautiful Christine. She was confused indeed.

"No, darling, you see, he is a misshapen, murdering madman who lives in an underground cave beneath a destroyed opera house, which, might I remind you, he destroyed. I, on the other hand, am handsome and rich, living in a normal house above ground. See? He can hardly be considered a man Lotte, more like a mole, or a rat or something."

Her face took on an expression of shock and she retracted her hand from under mine quickly. My smile faltered slightly at her sudden action before I reached out a hand to pat her head, putting my smile back on. "There, there, Little Lotte, no need to work yourself into a fuss. Here, how about you fix your hair and get dressed and I will give you money to buy some chocolates or something, hmm? Perhaps a new dress? Now, doesn't that sound good?"

I did not see it coming until her hand connected smartly with my face. I stood there, speechless, trying to piece together what had just happened. Was it something I said?

Her soft brown eyes hardened as her face became livid and her pretty pink lips pursed. "I am not a child, Raoul. You can not simply appease me with chocolates and dresses! Do you think that just because I am a woman that I am stupid? That just because you are 'handsome and rich' you are better than any other man? You are a spoiled, conceited little rich boy and I have had enough! I have tried to make this work Raoul, I really have, and it just will not. Goodbye, Vicomte."

With that she turned to leave but I grabbed her arm and turned her to face me. "Now Christine," I said in my most calming and reassuring voice, "Do not be so hasty! You do not mean what you say! Oh my poor little dear, that nasty man still has a grip on your mind, doesn't he? All will be better in time."

I attempted to pull her to me and comfort her. I understood that woman sometimes got in strange moods and that this one would pass and all would be back to normal, just like my mother.

However, my Christine would have none of it, and she yanked her arm out of my grasp and let out a frustrated yell before storming out of the room and slamming the door behind her.

I just shook my head and smiled. Such strange creatures, women. It is a good thing that they have men to cling to with such fragile minds and bodies. I decided to wait for her return in the living room.

She never came back.

My supply of brandy is exhausted and it is time to retire for the evening. I let this memory of her go again for later consideration and stand up. Casting one more fleeting glance at the crackling fire, I head for the door and up to my room.


End file.
